Smile
by singsongsung
Summary: Snapshots of NS. "You make me smile like the sun."
1. better than the best

**A/N: **This "story" is going to be a compilation of (generally) unconnected snippets of NS, most of which will probably be based on speculation or actual episodes of the rest of season three. Once the show comes back I'll probably want to write a lot of them, so this is a good way to keep all those smaller fics in one place. The song lyrics I'll be using are from Uncle Kracker's _Smile_, a song that fits them so well. That's all; happy reading!

**Smile**

February 14, 2010: _you're better than the best_

_--  
_

"And, once again, as per usual, I kicked your ass," Serena gloats, twirling around triumphantly next to the pool table.

She comes to a halt, leaning against her cue as she kisses Nate.

He pulls her closer immediately. "But you give…the best…consolation prizes," he teases as he tries to speak without separating their mouths.

"Mm." She lets her cue fall to the floor, slips her arms around him. "I do, don't I?"

Nate walks them backward a couple clumsy steps, until her lower back is pressed tightly to the edge of the pool table. "Best everything," he agrees in a quick whisper, lips falling to her neck and leaving a trail of kisses toward her shoulder as one of his hands tugs her sleeve downward.

"Hey," she gasps out, her voice just as soft. "Maybe…" She grips at his shoulders a little. She came over just to hang out, not really expecting anything, but all of a sudden she's suggesting: "Your bedroom…"

His hand hooks underneath one of her thighs and she gets the message, hopping up to sit on the table with a little help from him. Legs wrapped around his waist, she sets her hands to work on the buttons of his shirt. Nate groans a little as he kisses her again, his tongue sweeping into her mouth.

"Bedroom…?" she murmurs again. She toes off her ballet flats; her dress is bunched around her hips.

"I need you to know…this isn't what I had planned for today…" He sounds a little far away and not entirely regretful.

"No?" Serena pushes his shirt off his shoulders, wiggles a little closer to the edge of the pool table, a little closer to him. She can feel her pulse through her whole body. "What did you have planned?"

"Bought you flowers…" He tucks his head into her neck, his breath hot against her skin. She shivers a little, and gasps when his hips press more firmly into hers.

"_Nate_…your bedroom."

He ignores her, kissing her collarbone tenderly. "_Sun_flowers…"

She smiles at that, turns her head toward his and lets her lips linger against his cheek. "My favourite."

He nods, catches her lips with his. "And those little hearts…the ones you like, the ones that taste like cinnamon…"

"Did you?" she asks absently, distracted by the way his hand is moving over the fabric of her dress. She moans into his mouth. "I like the way _you_ taste."

Nate pulls away from her just a little bit, putting only an inch or two between their faces. He tucks her hair behind her ear lazily; uses the thumb of other hand to wipe smeared lip gloss from her bottom lip. "God, you're beautiful…"

She sucks in some air as his hands settle back on her thighs. "Nate…" she murmurs breathily, her hand going to the back of his neck as she pulls him into another kiss. She can't get enough of him. "Let's…"

But he cuts her off, pulling back again slowly, his nose nuzzling hers. They're both breathing hard. "I got you a _card_, it took forever to pick out…" He grins. "Had to call Blair for advice. Twice."

"You're so sweet," she breathes, her hands on his cheeks, because he is, he's adorable and perfect, but she just… "Natie, I just…I want _you_…"

"I want you, too. I've always wanted you," Nate tells her huskily.

"So –"

He silences her with a kiss, and she's tired of being interrupted but definitely _not_ tired of kissing him, so she lets it happen. Slowly, sneakily, she moves one of her hands between their bodies and unbuttons Nate's pants.

He grabs her wrist to stop her from going any further, forehead pressed to hers as he takes a couple steadying breaths. "And I got you a giraffe. Not a _real_ one, obviously, but this toy one that's wearing a blue bowtie…I thought you'd think he was cute."

"…think _you're_ cute," she replies dizzily. "Nate, _please_, Chuck and Blair could come home any minute…" She wants out of their clothes and into his bed, and she can't quite understand why he's so reluctant to give in to her.

He presses a series of short, quick kisses to her lips. "Shh."

She grinds her hips against his just a little bit; feels satisfied when she shuts _him_ up for once and all he can do is groan out her name, his voice strained. She kisses his jaw, whispers coyly, "Take me to bed…" Her teeth tug at his earlobe.

"And I got…champagne…" he mutters, practically groping her through her dress now; she lets him, leans into his touch eagerly.

"What a romantic," Serena replies sweetly, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as she drags him into another kiss. She sees a flash of a bar, of sunset through the windows, of sitting on Nate's lap. She nips at his bottom lip.

"Made you…a mixed CD…too…"

That makes her pause. She breaks the kiss, eyes roving over his face. "You did not, Nathaniel."

He frowns at her, their noses bumping again. "Hey. What did I do to deserve the full-name treatment?"

She ignores him. "Did you really?"

"Of course, really."

"Nate…" She trails her fingers down his chest, thinks of all the time when they were younger when this was all she _wanted_, this boy who would actually make her mixed CDs like they were in some movie from the nineties. It probably has cheesy songs on it, plus some of the stuff he knows she loves. She sighs, looks at him with half a smile. "_Thank_ you," she says, kind of stupidly, because he hasn't actually given it to her yet, but she _means_ it so very completely.

He smiles back, tracing meaningless patterns onto her legs. "You're welcome."

She wraps her arms around his neck. "Let me _thank you_ thank you. Let's go to bed, Nate…"

He kisses her gently, teases, "In the middle of the afternoon?"

"Nate…" She tugs down his zipper before he can stop her, presses her face to his neck. "I want you so bad…"

His hands grip her hips, hard. "_Serena_…"

"Come on…"

Nate exhales heavily. "You know what else I was going to do…"

She whimpers, pressing herself even closer to him. "_Torture_ me?"

"No, baby," he chuckles into her hair.

Her heart soars and her stomach twists; she relaxes a little bit against him, giving in. "Is this…" She breathes in. "Are you…trying to make me wait? Like I made you wait?"

His hands drift up to her arms, pulling their bodies apart gently. "_No_," he says firmly, his eyes searching hers. "Of course not, I would never –"

"Because I'm sorry. You know that, right? I was being stupid, and I…"

He touches her lips with a single finger. "Serena. You weren't being stupid. I'm not…I'm not _mad_ about it or anything. You don't have to be sorry. I'm just…so happy to have you now." He kisses her, smiles brightly. "And if you would _shut up_ and stop making this so _hard_ –"

She giggles a little at that, unable to help herself. Nate sighs, kisses her again and swallows her laughter.

"So _difficult_ to do," he corrects himself, "then maybe you'd know that."

"'Kay," she whispers, "tell me what else you were going to do."

"I was going to ask you to be my valentine. I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend."

She stares at him for a moment, their blue eyes locked together. "_Oh_."

"And then we were going to eat cinnamon hearts and listen to your CD and drink some champagne…kiss for a while…and then you were going to go home."

Serena frowns a little. "I don't want to go home."

"We said…" He lets out a huffy breath, presses his cheek to hers. "We said we'd do this slow. We said we'd do it _right_."

She takes a few shaky breaths; his hands are moving up her thighs, under her dress, fingers grazing her underwear. She lets her head fall to his shoulder. "But this _feels_…feels _so_ right, you and me."

"Yeah, you and me…you and me, this is for real. I want it to be…perfect. I don't want to make any mistakes."

"And this would be a mistake?" She kisses his neck.

Nate laughs a little. "Doesn't really feel like it…"

She nods against his shoulder. "This is _right_, Nate. I know you know that."

He sighs, hands skimming down over her thighs. "Don't wanna lose you."

Serena lifts her head at that, gives it a shake. She links her hands at the back of his neck and tilts her head, smiling a little. "Ask me."

"What?"

"_Ask_ me, Nate."

He smiles back, almost shyly. His fingers tangle in her hair. "Serena van der Woodsen, will you be my girlfriend?"

She leans in to kiss him. "_Yes_. There. I'm yours. You can't lose me now. You might even get sick of me."

Nate shakes his head, looking at her with solemn eyes. "Couldn't ever."

She grins. "Can I ask you a question, now?"

He nods.

"Nate Archibald…" She sighs, touches her nose to his. "Will you take your girlfriend to your bedroom and make love to her before you drive her absolutelycrazy?"

She tightens her legs around him as he lifts her off the pool table and asks, "I drive you crazy already?"

"You drive me crazy _always_," she retorts as he kicks the door of his room shut behind them and they fall onto his bed.

"Yeah, okay," Nate murmurs distractedly as he pulls her dress over her head. "I'm good with _always_."

--

TBC.


	2. lucky just to linger

**A/N: **Thank you for your feedback! Just a quick reminder that this is a compilation of unconnected oneshots. This one in particular takes place following 3x13.

March 8, 2010: _i'm lucky just to linger in your life_

Nate's drunk.

And not in a conventional way; there's no alcohol in his bloodstream. He's drunk on _Serena_, on the way her mouth tastes, like champagne and summer afternoons, on the feel of her skin, the fit of her body against his, on the sound of her quiet laughter, on the distinctive Serena-smell of sandalwood that mingles with the scent of her perfume, on the fact that she said _me too_.

He's drunk on the way she's kissing him right now, tucked into his arms, fingers gripping his sleeves lightly. He's drunk on the way she murmurs, "And what does _good slow_ mean for the rest of the evening?"

He captures her lips with his once again, takes a moment just to kiss her, takes another moment to think about it before he replies to her. _Slow_ would probably mean taking her home right now, giving her a final, lingering kiss in her doorway like an (almost) perfect gentleman. It would mean waiting until late the next afternoon to give her a casual phone call, waiting a full forty-eight hours before seeing her again, waiting days before he could undress her again. But _good slow_...

"It means," he begins slowly, wrapping her up in his arms so that she won't get cold. "It means that I'd like you to come home with me."

She smiles at him, slow and sweet and intoxicating. "I'd like that, too."

"Promise me..." He sighs. "Promise me that we'll talk. That we won't let anything get in our way." _That it's for real this time, because I've waited_. "Promise me that...we'll be worth the wait."

Serena presses a kiss to her lips, fingers against his cheek, and whispers, "We're already worth the wait."

He grins against her mouth, but says somberly, "Don't run away on me again." He wouldn't be able to handle it; he's addicted, he craves her, he _needs_ her. (He loves her.)

She takes a shaky breath and touches her forehead to his. "Don't _let_ me."

Nate exhales slowly. He kisses her tenderly, deeply; a deal, a promise. No letting go, not this time, not ever again. She won't run away so long as he doesn't let her, and he _won't_. This is their chance, he knows it, and he wants them to work more than anything, has wanted this for a long, long time.

He says, "Okay."

"Okay," she echoes, a soft smile tugging at her lips, which are gloss-free and kissed pink and looking like elixir.

"Okay," Nate repeats one last time, taking her hand in his. "Let's go."

"We can talk _all night_," she drawls out playfully, pulling him after her into the back of the car. "About our _problems_, and our _issues_, and - "

He closes the door behind them, cups her chin with his hand and kisses her deeply, until she's pressed into the black leather seats and moaning into his mouth. "Or," he says, dropping his head to kiss her neck, "we could talk about how much I've wanted to be with you, and how long I've had feelings for you, and how I want this to be the last first date that either of us will ever have."

Serena blinks at him hazily, her blue eyes reflecting all of his emotion back to him. Her stolen coat falls open, revealing her skimpy black underwear and the mark on her collarbone that will surely be a noticeable hickey within a few hours. "Those are better topics," she breathes, nodding slowly.

Her fingers go to his face, idly tracing the shapes of his features, leaving patterns on his skin. Her nose is scrunched up a little in thought, her hair is falling into her eyes, and there is mascara smudged around her eyes, and Nate just – he can't believe – he _did_ that. She's..._beautiful,_ and happy; peacefully undone, clearly debauched, and _he did that_ to her. It fills him up with something powerful, makes him feel strangely and kind of wonderfully possessive of her as he leans into her, gives her a slow, sweet kiss.

She laughs a little, fingers hooked into the collar of his shirt. "You really loved me, didn't you?" she asks him, a little breathlessly, something like awe in her eyes. She answers her own question quietly: "You really, really did."

Nate nods, swallowing hard. "Really, really, _really_ did.

Serena pulls her (some random woman's, whatever) coat tighter around her body again, sitting up a bit more and tucking a few haphazard locks of hair behind her ears. She studies his face for a moment, wearing half a smile. "Do you...do you think that you could really, really, really do it again?" Her voice is so small that it hurts his heart.

He kisses her, again and again and again, and in between each he says, "_Really_. Really...really...really...really...really..."

She laughs a little, kisses him back, lightly and fiercely all at once. "Because, this _was_ the best date ever. So I...I think it would be okay if I never had another first date."

He grins brightly at her, he can't help it. "Yeah?"

Blushing a little, she nods. "You know, I think...I think we've broken every first-date rule _ever_. It's way too early for us to be...to be talking about..."

_The future. Together forever. Being in love_.

He sinks his fingers into her messy hair. "Or way overdue," he says quietly.

"How long..." She allows it to trail off, shaking her head a little as she glances out the window, away from him. He watches as she takes a couple deep, steadying breath; waits for her (he's gotten very good at that). "Thank you for tonight," she finally says, meeting his eyes again. Her smile is brave and trusting and he _wants_ it, that trust, wants to prove himself worthy of it and of every other piece of her.

Nate softens his smile, plays with her hair, twisting it gently around his fingers. Her updo has been completely ruined, but he likes her this way, hair wild and loose around her shoulders. "Thank _you_ for tonight," he replies teasingly, but he means it with everything in him. She is what, who, he's always wanted, and he feels like he's won some kind of lottery, sitting right here with her right now as the town car glides to a stop.

He kisses her quickly before he steps out of the car, holding the door open for her as she follows, coat pulled tightly closed around her body, hair a little less of a disaster. The doorman's face is neutral as they skirt by, but a man in the lobby does a double-take when he sees them. Serena is pressed close to his side, doesn't notice it, but Nate can't help offering up a sheepish kind of smile. It's less of an apologetic, what're-you-gonna do, just had sex in a coatroom smile; more of a quietly proud, yeah-that's-right, just had sex in a coatroom with _this girl_ smile.

In the elevator, he kisses Serena's neck, sneaks a hand into her coat. She giggles and protests weakly, tilting her head to give him better access and whispering briefly about _Chuck has cameras, no grabass in his elevators_, and he smirks against her skin, a hand at the small of her back to keep her body nice and close to his, whispers back, "It's too late for no-grabass tonight, S."

She pushes his shoulder playfully and then grabs his lapel, pulling him into a bruising kiss that lasts until the doors of the elevator slides open, and even then, he lets his tongue explore her mouth for a moment more. Tonight, _finally_, they are on the same page. She's his just as much as he is hers, and it makes him feel impossibly lucky to have this night, impossibly hopeful that it might last and _last_ and never-ever stop.

Serena has to end the kiss because Nate just can't. She takes a deep breath, shoots him this coy look that he feels the impact of _everywhere_. "What kind of girl do you think I am, Archibald?"

He rolls his eyes a little, kisses her cheek as he guides her into the hall, and they stumble through the main rooms of the suite without turning on lights, whispering in the dark and tripping over everything, gripping onto each other's hands as they try not to get caught on the off-chance Chuck and Blair are actually there.

Once they're in his room, with the overhead light on, he turns to hang up his jacket while Serena stretches out on his bed, no longer bothering to hold her coat closed.

"So." She smiles prettily at him, leaning back, propped up her elbows. "What do you wanna talk about?"

He adopts a very serious expression. "Global warming."

Serena nods eagerly, eyes glinting as she shrugs her shoulders just so and her coat falls all the way open and drops off her body. "Yeah, it's getting hot in here, don't you think?"

Nate laughs; his serious face doesn't stand a chance. He flicks off the light drops onto the bed with more force than necessary on the bed, making her shriek and giggle while he settles himself just above her, resting his weight on his forearms so that he doesn't crush her. "Jeez, does that line work on all the guys?"

She lies back, her head sinking onto his pillow. "Nope, I saved it for you."

"Well, don't I feel special."

She unbuttons his shirt for the second time this evening, her eyes locked with his, blue on blue. "You should," she whispers, and then pushes his shirt off his shoulders.

He smiles at her, kisses her head before he goes to work helping her fully out of the coat and tossing it aside.

"Hey, be careful!" she protests, getting comfy on his bed once again in next-to-nothing. Nate has trouble focusing on anything at all but the way she looks, lying there beneath him, for a moment.

"Why?" he finally laughs, smoothing out the creases in her forehead that emerge when she frowns.

"That coat probably belonged to some dignitary. It's my souvenir. You have to be careful with it."

"Your _souvenir_? From the French embassy's party?"

"No. From our last first date."

"Serena..."

Her arms reach around him, hands against his back pulling him closer, and he relents, rests more of his weight against her.

"So be careful," she repeats, breathes it out, licks her lips as her eyes search his face in the darkness.

Nate nods, slowly and seriously. "Careful."

"Hey." She smiles, he sees the soft white glint of it just before she tilts her chin up for a kiss. "Remember that whole loving-me thing?"

He chuckles a little. He never forgets. "It sounds familiar."

One of her legs curls around him. "I was thinking, maybe, you could start now."

He takes a deep breath. "And you?"

"I will if you will," she bargains, asks for this to be something they dive into together.

"I..." He lets the silence linger for a minute, eyes tracing slowly down and then back up the path on her skin laid out by a sliver of moonlight, until he is looking, once again, into her shiny eyes. He smiles back at her, admitting and agreeing all at once when he says, "I thought you'd never ask."


	3. the flipside of my pillow

**A/N: **Thank you for your feedback! Just another reminder that these are unconnected oneshots. This one takes place after 3x14. Reviews are love.

March 15, 2010: _cooler than the flip-side of my pillow, that's right _

Nate is still rubbing her back, slow, soothing circles, his fingers slipping into her hair every now and again. He's being very patient as she sits there, cell phone at her side and the heels of her hands pressed against her eyes.

"I don't get it," she finally says after a long silence, but her voice isn't supposed to sound so small and tight, because she's not crying, she' _not_, she's just _done_, she said so.

He sits up, snakes an arm around her waist and presses his face against her neck, breathing her in. "Neither do I," he murmurs, kissing her neck gently. "Who wouldn't want to be chased down by you?"

Serena smiles a little, because she knows that's the reaction he's looking for.

But he doesn't buy it. They're in the room at Eleanor Waldorf's that she's come to call her own, sitting on her bed, and Nate pulls her to lie back with him, against the pillows. "C'mere," he says as she sighs, relaxing a bit and snuggling into him.

He pushes her hair gently out of her face. "I'm proud of you, you know. For telling me. And for letting him go."

She toys with the buttons on his shirt. "Thank you for this, for being so cool about this."

Nate smiles, running his hand up and down her arm. "I'm just glad you're letting me in."

Tilting her chin up, she looks him in the eye. "We can do heavy, too, right?"

"Of course we can. And we'll still have fun. We can _multitask_." He waggles his eyebrows playfully, leaning in to kiss her.

Serena smiles against his mouth, murmurs, "Mm, we proved that in the kitchen this morning."

He laughs, presses another kiss to her lips. "Maybe we should make a list."

"Of rooms to have sex in?" she demands, laughing as she lets her head sink into one of the pillows.

Nate stretches out fully next to her. "No, of the many things we can accomplish while mulititasking. But that list...that list sounds good too." He kisses her again, more deeply this time, and she sinks into the mattress and into his arms gratefully.

She tucks her head against his shoulder. "You're good at this."

"Kissing?"

Giggling a little, she says, "No. Well, _yeah_. But at...being a boyfriend." She pauses. "Are you my boyfriend?"

He glances at the ceiling for a moment, still smiling, his expression contemplative. "Are you going to start telling me things?"

"Everything," she promises enthusiastically, propping herself up on one elbow. "Every single thing, until you get sick of me. Like, um...I hate tuna fish."

"I knew that," Nate tells her, one eyebrow rising.

"I stole one of Blair's headbands once."

"I know that, too. You gave it back a week later; you felt guilty about it."

Serena huffs. "There's nothing _left_ to tell you."

"The important things," he says firmly. "I want you to tell me all the important things. I want to know how you're feeling."

She smiles, abruptly shy. "The tuna fish thing _is_ important. If you ever eat it in front of me we'll have to break up."

"Serena." He rolls his eyes at her affectionately.

"Will you tell me everything, too?"

He touches her cheek, the pad of his thumb moving gently over her skin. "Yeah, I'll tell you everything."

She places her hand over his, leans into his palm. "Okay, we'll tell each other everything." Making a face, she asks playfully, "So are you my boyfriend or what, Archibald?" She feels nervous, her skin all flushed; she feels twelve years old again.

"Will you..." He grins when he sees the way she's frowning, sits up a bit so that they're at eye level and leans in close as he asks very seriously, "Will you break some more furniture with me?"

He kisses her in the midst of her laughter, slips his tongue into her mouth as he gently nudges her until she's lying back again, half-pinned beneath him.

"Yeah, I'm your boyfriend," he says.

Serena shifts under his gaze, unable to keep from noticing the way his eyes _drink_ her in, like he loves the way she looks right now, slightly breathless and smiling up at him. It makes her eyes start to water again.

"Hey..."

She shakes her head to dispel any of his worry and reminds herself to keep smiling. "No, I'm fine. I'm fine. I just..." _Do you even realize the way you look at me?_ Sucking in some air, she says quickly, "Chuck's probably not very happy with me right now, huh?"

Nate doesn't question her sudden change of topic; he hardly even looks surprised at all, simply says, "Maybe not. Does he know about your dad?"

"Bits and pieces," she tells him softly. He is still hovering over her, partially pressed against her, and she feels safe and warm and happy, right here, like this.

"I get what you were trying to do. It was for you – but for him, too. You wouldn't want him to feel like you do. And I'm sure he'll understand that."

A hand at the nape of his neck, she pulls him toward her for a kiss, pouring everything she can't say into it. When he pulls away she keeps her eyes closed. "Your opinion of me tends to be a little higher than Chuck's opinion of me, on average."

Nate laughs, looks at her with dark blue eyes. "I'm okay with that. I really don't want Chuck's thoughts about you to be anything like mine are right now."

She giggles and agrees, "Might be kinda awkward for everybody." She tilts her head to the side, indicating that he should lie down beside her. He does, reaching out to wrap an arm around her, tugging her close. "Today was good, wasn't it, before all the drama with Elizabeth? You and me and Chuck and Blair...we almost had a double-date today."

"Almost, yeah."

"Maybe we can have a real one someday, if Chuck ever decides to speak to me again."

Nate rolls his eyes. "I will bet you my new dresser that the two of you will talk this out by tomorrow. He's your brother."

"He holds grudges."

His nose nuzzles against her cheek. "Well, maybe your boyfriend will have to have a talk with him."

She yawns, turns her face to kiss him. "Yeah, maybe."

"Tired?"

"Mm..." Serena nods, blinking heavily.

Nate nods, too. "Yeah, you deserve some rest."

They're still lying on top of the covers, and still in their clothes, but that doesn't matter. She rolls over, onto her side, with her back to him. And Nate tucks his body against hers right away, his chest to her back, his arm wrapped securely around her to hold her there. He kisses her neck and his feet brush against hers, tickling their soles and making her giggle and squirm a little.

"Hey," he whispers, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

She sighs sleepily, waiting for him to go on.

"I meant it. I know you've missed your dad, but his leaving, that was all _his_ fault. I know you want answers, but talking to him...it's not going to validate anything about _you_. You're amazing, with or without knowing him or having him in your life. Seeing him again isn't going to change a thing about you." His pulls her even closer. "And I wouldn't want it to."

Serena turns in his arms; his face looks a little hazy as she blinks slowly, already halfway into slumber. "Validate," she murmurs teasingly. "SAT word?"

He laughs. "You caught me."

Letting her eyes fall shut again, she smiles. "See, I know everything about you."

"Guess so," Nate chuckles. He pulls her upward a little, and her eyes fly open once again, before she even has time to ask what he's doing he's settling them both back down on the blankets, having flipped over the pillow they're currently sharing. "Cool side of the pillow, right?" he asks her knowingly, a smirk pulling at his lips.

She kisses it away. "Don't get cocky with me."

"Hm, thought you liked – "

Pushing at his shoulder to scold him, she nudges him until he's on his back and she can rest her head against his shoulder, curl one of her legs over his. "You're such a moron," she whispers fondly.

"I'm _your_ moron now," he retorts. She can feel the rumble of his laughter in his chest.

"M'okay with that."

Silence settles over them, envelopes them comfortably. Serena keeps her feels closed, listening to Nate's breathing and his heartbeat as they ease into the slower rhythm of sleep.

"You wouldn't change _anything_?" she whispers. "Not even the tuna fish thing?"

"Especially not the tuna fish thing." His voice is low and rough with sleep but earnest all the same.

"If you couldn't eat tuna for the rest of your life -"

Nate opens his eyes, tucks a finger under her chin so that she's looking at his face. "Even then. You'd be worth it. You're _worth_ it, Serena. He's not."

She tries to ignore the pinpricks in her chest, the ones that are making her take quick little breaths. She licks her lips, whispers, "Thank you."

His eyes are more alert now, skimming over her face and looking aghast. "Don't _cry_ over him, don't -"

Serena lets out a burst of surprised laughter, feeling a couple tears trail down her cheeks, sliding slowly over the curve of her chin. "I'm not, I'm – I'm crying over you."

With a shake of his head, Nate says gently, "Who's the moron now?"

She presses her face against his shoulder, takes a couple steadying breaths.

His fingers run through her hair, combing through the tangles. "Sleep, okay? Just get some sleep. I'll make you breakfast tomorrow."

Voice muffled against his shirt, she asks, "Legitimate breakfast or furniture-breaking breakfast?"

"Both." He's rubbing her back again, coaxing her back into the phase right before sleep, and she can hear the smile in his voice as she drifts off. "Multitasking, remember?"


	4. nothing can compare

**A/N:** Thank you for your feedback! This oneshot follows 3x15.

March 22, 2010: _completely unaware, nothing can compare to where you send me_

Nate's heart is jumping around the way he imagines it would if he ever jumped off a cliff, or something else equally adrenaline-boosting and awe-inspiring.

He needs to calm down. So Serena van der Woodsen loves him. It's not a big deal.

He grins, forehead pressed to hers. She smiles back at him (softer, gentler) and leans in to capture his lips in a kiss.

It is a _big fucking deal_.

"Maybe we could," he mumbles between kisses, pulls her close as she wraps her arms around his neck.

She blinks slowly, her fingers slipping into her hair. "We could what?"

"Go back to that night. And relive it...knowing the things..." He can't stop smiling. "Knowing the things that we know now."

Serena beams back, impossibly pretty in the firelight. Her nose nuzzles against his. "Like what?"

He laughs, kisses her cheek. "You tell me."

And she nods, accepts that it's her turn to _say_ things. "Like how you loved me?"

"Love you," he corrects her, hurriedly and a little fiercely. "_Love_ you." He kisses her quickly, pulls back much too soon, but he needs to hear more from her. "And what else?"

"I love you." It's adorable, the way it makes her shy to say it, the pink tinge to her cheeks and the way she bites her lip. She giggles. "I love you _too_."

"Yeah, you do," he mutters (it's still sinking in, he's still letting himself believe it) as he pulls her into another kiss, lets it linger this time.

It's Serena, this time, that breaks their kiss, her hands on his shoulders. "Nate."

"Uh-huh?" He takes a moment to look at her, comments, "This dress, I like this dress..."

She laughs, pushes at him just enough to be scolding, not hard enough to really get him to move away. "Hey, you – "

His fingers trace along her back slowly, moving from one side to the other. He doesn't encounter the zipper of her dress until his hand is at her side; it's tucked right under her arm, at a point that lets him feel the under-wire of her bra, the swell of her her breast. "Would look even better on the floor, though," he says softly, pressing a kiss to her neck as he gives the zipper a sharp tug downward.

"_Natie_," she whispers, laughter in her voice. "Listen."

He groans (over-dramatically, probably) and lifts his head. "Yes?" he sighs.

Her fingers press against his cheeks, and it's then that he notices the deep, serious blue of her eyes.

"What is it?"

"I just...I want you to know that it meant more, with you. More than it did with anybody else, any of those guys..."

He shakes his head, kisses her to silence her. "I don't want to hear about any other guys."

"Let me – " She doesn't finish her protest, simply goes back to the subject at hand and says, "It meant more. It meant more and it scared me and there was Blair and...and I think maybe, because it meant more...it was easier to run away than to deal with what that meant." Her eyes roam over his face. "Do you forgive me?"

Nate frowns. "I didn't have a right to – "

"No, you _did_. You have no right to make assumptions or even _comments_ about the people I've slept with, _class whore_..." She pokes him in the chest; that, along with the glimmer in her eyes, let's him know that she's just teasing. It fades away, that glimmer, is replaced but something deeper and heavier when she says, "But you did have a right to get mad at me for leaving. You had a right to do that." She takes a deep breath. "So. Do you forgive me?"

"I forgave you a long time ago. It was just that..." He shrugs, glances down at the floor. "I _loved_ you, and we had sex and then you just _disappeared_, but I...I couldn't stop. Loving you," he clarifies. "I don't know how to stop."

Her lips curl upward into a smirk he knows well, this coy one that makes him wish for the end of this serious conversation so he can _show_ her how much he loves her.

"_Good_," she says lightly, eyebrows arched, and then pulls him into a bruising kiss.

She is the one to pull back again, the two of them breathless and clinging to each other. "I forgive you, too. For calling me a slut tonight."

"I didn't – " He starts to protest, but she cuts him off by pressing her lips to his, and he feels her smile against his mouth. He relaxes into the kiss, laughs a bit; their teeth bump together.

Serena nudges him backward a few steps, until the backs of his legs run into a nearby chair, and after he falls into it she climbs onto his lap, legs on either of his waist. He smiles, leans back and pulls her close as he kisses her.

"Wait, wait," he mutters a moment later, while she's kissing his neck and slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

"Mm?" she barely moves, just bites at his skin a little. "Thought you said something about reliving..."

"Yeah..." He finds the zipper at the side of her dress and tugs it again, this time upward, his fingers lingering against her skin. He sighs into her hair.

Serena sits up, lips red and hair wild."What is it?"

"Come on, get up." He grins at the sight of her like that, he can't help it. There is a very real possibility that he will _always_ grin at the sight of her like that.

"Nate – "

"_Reliving_," he reminds her very seriously, redoing the buttons on his shirt before offering her his hand. "C'mon, let's go."

"You are being very mysterious," Serena laughs, but she follows him willingly. (_Follows_ him, trusts him, wants to be where he goes – and he loves it, loves her, so much he could burst from it.)

Nate calls a car. He asks the driver to go to the nearest liquor store. They run in together, he and Serena, dressed to the nines but messily so: her hair is falling over her shoulders, untamed, and she doesn't have any shoes; Nate's collar is half-popped and one of his sleeves is rolled up. They look – and feel – like they're two years younger, laughing as they dash in and examine the champagne selection as if they're making a decision that affects the fate of the entire human race or something. Serena wraps herself around him, tucks herself into his arms as they debate, and he doesn't complain. She is giggling madly when they arrive at the counter to pay, a blush painted over her collarbone, creeping up her neck as Nate whispers in her ear, one of his arms snaked securely around her waist. Nate slides over a credit card, and they are not asked for IDs.

"Where're we going?" she hisses as he guides her back to the car. He kisses her by the door, pushes her back against the body of the car. The city spins around them, noise and light, but all he can feel is her.

"Surprise," he tells her, makes her promise to cover her ears and close her eyes while he quietly directs the driver to their destination.

He kisses her eyelids when he settles back in next to her, then her nose, finally her lips. "You peeked, didn't you?"

"No way," she whispers, her smile bright, and they both know she's lying.

Ten minutes later he's slipping out of the car and offering her his hand, waving the driver away with a smile. They stand side-by-side on the city sidewalk, busy even at night, staring at the building for a moment as if it is _monumental_, and Nate thinks maybe it is, just a little bit.

He's holding a bottle of champagne in one hand and Serena's hand in the other. He looks over at her and she looks content, smiling a little. She glances at him, says quietly, "You're ridiculous, Nate."

And he pulls her into his arms, wraps her up and tries to make sure the bottle isn't digging into her back anywhere. "You," he says, looking right into her eyes, "are a mess."

Serena gives him a look, like _you are so corny, this can't be a serious thing_ but he sees what's beneath it, a flash of the way that she and Blair used to look at George Peppard at the end of _Tiffany's: _that momentary, daring hope for a romance you never think you'll really have.

He wants to give it to her; wants to give her everything and then some.

It starts to rain, then; lightning splits the sky and it starts to _pour_, and Nate grins at her hesitantly because the turn this night has taken, the way it has lead them to this moment, he couldn't have scripted it for her – and maybe that's the whole point.

She laughs, breathlessly, glances up at the sky and Nate can see the droplets of water caught in her eyelashes, peppered everywhere over her skin. She smooths a hand through his damp hair, hooks an arm around his neck, and her mouth jumps into a sunny smile that fights against the night and the rain, lights up everything around him. Her lips a breath away from his, she says on a whisper, "_So are you._"

They kiss and kiss and kiss on the street; a car honks as it glides by and a drunk boy in an NYU sweater sticks his head out the back window and yells, "Get a _room_, guys!"

Nate laughs as they pull apart, smiles at how completely unashamed she looks, her wet hair sticking to her cheeks. "Or a bar," he suggests with a wiggle of his eyebrows, pulling her inside.

"Shh," Serena whispers as they sneak in, it's dark inside by the navigate around with a strange sort of familiarity. She bumps into him and they both burst out laughing, clapping their hands over one another's mouths. "Do you think anyone's here?"

He glances around, sees no signs of life. He shrugs. "It's gonna be awkward if they are."

"_Nate!_" she squeals.

"Oh please." He holds his hands out to his sides so she can get a good look at him and makes his best _I mean, c'mon_ face. "Class whore, remember? Sex in a public place is _not_ a stretch."

"Don't be so _proud_," she laughs, stepping on his toes, her bare feet on top of his shoes.

He pulls her close, lifts her up so that she's sitting on a stool; she wraps her legs around his waist. "You know, there are _advantages_ to dating someone as shameless as myself..."

She tugs off his belt. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Archibald."

"I knew it. My skanky ways turn you on," he teases.

"I will _show_ you skanky, mister," Serena giggles. She tilts her chin up, looks him in the eye for one quiet moment. "We're messed up, you and me."

"Messed up _together_, though. I like our mess."

"Mutual mess?" She's giggling again.

"Mutual mess," Nate agrees, kisses her nose. "No clean-up necessary."

She looks at him like he's just given her some kind of gift, but she says silent, just tightens her arms around his neck the slightest bit.

(He loves her, she loves him, and this is a big deal.)

He holds up the bottle of champagne, watches the way rainwater drips from her hair. "Think your bottle-opening skills have improved?"

"You sucked last time!" she protests, taking it from him. After a moment of struggle she relents, handing it over.

"What were you saying?"

She slips all of the buttons on his shirt undone, pushes it off his shoulders. "Open it."

He obliges her, and they drink straight from the bottle, guzzling most of it down within about twenty minutes, laughing quietly and undressing each other in between sips.

"I love you," she whispers to him, mouth right by his ear, and he can hear the tremor in her voice, the way she _means_ it. He knows that this is different, for both of them, that sex is one thing but this – this is another altogether.

She's on his lap now, and they're not clawing at each other, but just touching, slow and savouring. "I love you, too," he promises her, kisses her sweetly.

"No stopping," she breathes, a reminder with a touch of something more slipped in, a request for reassurance.

Nate nuzzles his nose against hers, slips one of his hands into her hair, and grants it. "No stopping."


End file.
